The Magic Plague
by The.Dragon.Singer
Summary: "They can't cure us. You want to know why? Because there's nothin' to cure." - Ororo Monroe AKA Storm, X-Men:The Last Stand


**QUIDDITCH LEAGUE FANFICTION COMPETITION: ROUND 11 ENTRY FOR CHASER 2 OF CHUDLEY CANNONS**

**TASK: **A character loses their powers

**PROMPTS: **

**N/A**

**Word Count (Microsoft Word): 1461**

* * *

The sun beat harshly against the sand and dirt of Great Britain's terrain. The sand crackled like glass as the night patrol returned to the London Bunker, all of them weary and downtrodden. The wagon they pulled carried a half-full barrel of water, and the small haul garnered frowns from the man on duty at the massive gate.

The group of water-hunters vanished shuffled onto the industrial elevator and quietly waited as they descended into the dimly lit shaft. The five water-hunters were met at the bottom of the shaft by the glare of artificial lighting and a small team who took the barrel off their hands and pointed them towards Decontamination.

Rough cloaks and hoods were shed into the hamper for outerwear, followed by their worn boots and gloves, and finally, the oxygen tanks were carefully removed and placed to the side to be refilled for the next group. The five water-hunters varied in size, age, and race, but all of them were slightly sunburnt and grouchy. One-by-one the five hunters stepped into the AirShower for decontamination and then waited on the other side for the rest of their team so that they could eat and head to bed.

Once all five of the water-hunters had made it through, green light and a loud beep filled the chamber, and the wall slid back to let them into the central London Bunker. In the early morning, the open park they had stepped into was reasonably empty, a couple of joggers took a lap around the artificial grass of the park, and a few walk-of-shamers crept back to their assigned quarters.

The four younger hunters split from their leader with a nod, heading for the twenty-four-hour cafeteria across the park. The older man raised a hand to wave goodbye and headed down the road on the right, nodding to the children who ran past on their way to school. As he walked, the housing units got progressively smaller, and the area came to a stop at another gate, this one made of clear plexiglass and tagged with slurs that once had made the man proud. He waved his wrist over the locking mechanism to the side and sighed heavily when the glass slid open. It sealed behind him with a loud hiss, and he strode down the narrow corridor before he came to a stop with a small sad smile.

The faint smell of pumpkin floated through the air, and the area was already busy with people, all of whom were wearing some sort of robe. The man headed towards the statue in the middle of the isolated area and made a sharp right down a street marked with dusty red banners, some of which still carried the faint gold lion of the once-proud Gryffindor House of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Morning, Mr. Dean," a pair of boys with messy black hair greeted as they strode past.

"Morning, boys," Dean replied, watching them head towards the center of Magebourne, the shoddy area the former magical folk of Great Britain were forced to live in. He watched as the boys turned the corner towards the exit of Magebourne and then headed into the house he shared with his long-time partner Seamus, who was standing at the stove with a hand in his pocket and a cup of coffee at the other.

"Morning, love," The Irishman greeted his lover. Dean shuffled forward and dropped his head onto Seamus' shoulder, dark eyes closing and a heavy sigh exiting his mouth. He mumbled his reply to the Irishman's shoulder.

"How was your search?"

Dean grumbled and then dropped into one of the rickety chairs. "I would give almost anything to use an _Aguamenti_ right now."

Seamus furrowed his brows and slid Dean his coffee, black and lukewarm. He slid a hand over his lover's shoulder and headed into their shared bedroom. The Irishman gathered his clothes for work and paused a moment to gaze longingly at the pair of wands sealed in a glass box on their dresser.

* * *

The pair of boys Dean had passed earlier waved their wrists over the locking mechanism that separated Magebourne and the London Bunker – or the London Underground, as the younger population had come to call it.

The boys shouldered their bags, swished into the Underground, and headed for London's school. Children in denim jeans and t-shirts sneered at the two boys in hand-me-down black robes with the faded logo of Hogwarts on the breast. The boys averted their eyes and headed for the seats in the back of the room. The two boys were only a couple of years apart, but the older boy – James – had been held back before Kindergarten by their mum.

"Morning," a girl whispered to their left, hiding behind her bushy hair.

"Morning, Rose," the younger boy, Albus, replied. Rose was their cousin, but she lived in St. Brutus' Home For Orphans on the other side of the Underground

"Good morning, class." Mrs. Cattermole announced as she entered the room. "History books out, please. As the September First approaches, I thought it might be nice to go back to our roots."

The students shuffled their books out of their lift-top desks and opened dutifully to the first page. Mrs. Cattermole cleared her throat and began to read.

"_Earth; the planet that life thrived upon for four-point-five billion years, from stardust to a living planet, and now to the ball of sand we now inhabit. Scientist believed that life evolved from apes and that the world as we knew it, had a scientific answer for every question we had. This was true, for the most part. Society believed that without the aid of magic, the world our parents and grandparents and the grandparents before them knew, would not have come into existence._"

"_Evidence suggested that the Earth was protected by layers of gas called the atmosphere, and was split into four parts: troposphere – closest to the ground, the stratosphere, the mesosphere, and the thermosphere – which bordered space. This theory came crashing to the ground in the year two-thousand-and-four, when the founder of Dursley International, Vernon Dursley, exposed the once-secret Wizarding community. The exposure of magical kind brought to light many questions; what had been taken as science, but was actually magic?_"

"_Vernon Dursley, who had known of the magical community since he began dating his late wife, Petunia, had nothing nice to say about any witch or wizard that he had met – his nephew included. Harry Potter, nephew to Vernon Dursley and Petunia Dursley nee Evans, was regarded widely throughout the Wizarding World as "the Chosen One" and killed their version of Hitler, a man known by the alias Voldemort, at only seventeen._"

James and Albus Potter shared a look, touching their messy black hair.

"_With the introduction of the wizarding society into our own, many negotiations were made, but Vernon Dursley was the man behind the solution to magic – and the downfall of our planet. Dursley International began research for a cure for magic, and until two-thousand-and-six, he had no success. In late two-thousand-and-six, during a visit from the Ministry of Magic and his own nephew, a freak accident caused Harry Potter's best friend and brother-in-law, Ronald Weasley, to lose his magic. During the dark days all history books now refer to as The Magic Plague, everyone from government officials to bounty hunters rounded up the magical folk and forced the 'Cure' on them, bringing devastation the likes of which no one could have ever imagined._"

"_The stratosphere, consisting of what was commonly known as the 'Ozone Layer,' began to rapidly vanish the more the 'Cure' was distributed. On October Seventh, two-thousand-and-nine, the Ozone Layer suddenly disappeared completely, and in six months, the rest of the atmosphere became so thin that life on the surface was no longer safe._"

"_The Ozone Layer, scientists discovered, was actually made of residual magic, and kept our planet safe from radiation and the scorching heat of our Sun. With the eradication of magic in the Wizarding Community, the Surface became uninhabitable, and the population of Earth was forced into underground Bunkers. Unfortunately, because of the rapid degradation of the atmosphere and the slow speed of construction, a vast amount of the population died before the Bunkers could be completed; well-known figures such as Queen Elizabeth, President Barack Obama, comedic superstar Ellen DeGeneres, celebrity chef Gordan Ramsey, and Canadian singer Celine Dion, were among the world-wide death toll._"

"_Dudley Dursley, the successor to Dursley International, began the practice of re-segregation for those of the Magical Community after his father died of radiation poisoning at seventy-three. The young CEO encourages magical parents to nurture their children's magical abilities in the hopes of restoring Earth to its once-lush state."_


End file.
